


for every question why (you were my because)

by chuuyaya



Category: SK8 the Infinity (Anime)
Genre: Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, No beta we die like Adam, Pining, Post ep9 Reimagined, Proposals, Temporarily Unrequited Love, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-10
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-15 21:48:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29939877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chuuyaya/pseuds/chuuyaya
Summary: It’s Kaoru and Kojiro against the world—skating through abandoned buildings and construction sites, skating on bridges and skating away from police officers who curse them out for being the way they are.It continues. Kaoru and Kojiro versus the world—until Adam.Kojiro doesn’t know how it all went downhill from there.
Relationships: Nanjo Kojiro | Joe/Sakurayashiki Kaoru | Cherry Blossom
Comments: 32
Kudos: 141





	for every question why (you were my because)

**Author's Note:**

> characterization? what's that. unbeta'd and unedited because i'm lazy but matchablossom came for my heart and i haven't been the same eversince.
> 
> WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED TO THIS FIC
> 
> title from louis tomlinson's walls

**for every question why (you were my because)**

*

Truth to be told, Kojiro is surprised he even lasted this long.

It’s not like he disliked skating— _ no _ , it was far from that. He loved the exhilarating rush of the wind against his body, the feeling of danger creeping through his skin, the sense of accomplishment that burns through his soul when he  _ finally _ manages to land a jump and that still holds true even after years of skating. Years and yet skating feels like it’s been tattooed right at Kojiro’s very soul and he skates just as excited as he is during his first time, unlike what he thought back then when he felt like it was going to be like another passing vice he would have as a rebellious teenager.

Skating with Kaoru though,  _ that’s  _ entirely a whole different feeling. People would often wonder how they managed to exist in the same space as each other, not when they were always going at each other’s throats at every given opportunity but truth to be told, Kojiro couldn’t remember a time when Kaoru wasn’t there. Annoying as he was, Kaoru was part of Kojiro’s life—had been there when Kojiro started skating and fell on his ass more than he could stand balanced, had been there when a particularly bad kitchen experiment ended with chocolate all over Kojiro’s hair, had been there when he first successfully landed an Ollie and Kojiro had been there when Kaoru decided to be rebellious and pierced his lip, had been there when Kaoru seriously and meticulously chose piercings for his ears, had been there when Kaoru started to develop a love for AI. He was in Kaoru’s life as much as Kaoru was in his.

Skating with Kaoru,  _ feels _ even better.

If skating made his heart pound faster like a large gong continuously beating loud and clear, skating with Kaoru feels like it’s stitched into Kojiro’s soul.

There’s something different, something heart-gripping about having someone to stand beside you, both of you pushing each other to reach different heights, having someone to patch up the wounds and scratches from continuous skating trial and errors, having someone beside you just to share the experience and feeling with—even if it is someone as annoying as Kaoru, even if they have clashing opinions on how to skate best. After all, they wouldn’t be Kojiro and Kaoru if they didn’t fight about something at least once.

“Right,” Kojiro stops absentmindedly skating in circles, turning his head to face the owner of the familiar voice that snapped Kojiro out of daydrea—his  _ thoughts _ . He would rather die than acknowledge that he’d been daydreaming about his past with Kaoru. “You’re so fucking narcissistic. Recording yourself, really?”

“Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?” Kojiro snipes back, smirking even though he knew it was a rather weak  comeback.

“No, I use it to hurl insults at narcissistic idiots.”

Kojiro grins. “You say that yet you’re still holding the camera, Kaoru.”

“Just hurry up and do your lousy move.”

“Hey!” Kojiro complains, stopping near Kaoru. He looks at the camera, grinning wide. “My Snail Crusher isn’t lousy!”

“The fact that you call it  _ Snail Crusher  _ speaks for itself.”

Kaoru is prickly, hard edges and harsher words but he dutifully follows the movements of Kojiro’s skating, seriously recording everything Kojiro is doing even if he mouths off. Kojiro gets himself lost in the feeling of skating, of the wind rushing through, of the adrenaline on his bones, of  _ knowing  _ that Kaoru is looking at him and his every movement, of Kaoru’s eyes focused  _ solely _ on him—and  _ that, _ shouldn’t send pleasure down his spine but it does.

He likes it. Likes it when Kaoru’s attention is solely on him. Likes it when those golden eyes of his become deeper, unfathomable as he stares at Kojiro’s every movement and no one knows his thoughts but himself. Kojiro, though he’d never admit it out loud, wanted attention—Kaoru’s attention if he were to be specific.

The momentum he gains is not for show. He  managed to do the move though his execution could be polished a bit and his landing was a bit  wobbly but he did it nonetheless. As he falls to his ass on the ground, Kojiro can’t help but laugh, excited and full of promise, unable to free himself from the crutches of skating. He laughs, eyes bright as he turns to Kaoru, ready to brag and—

Kaoru’s looking back at him, a camera on his hand pointed at Kojiro and there’s a semblance of a smile on his face, his golden eyes flashing with pride as he stares at Kojiro. “Well, maybe not so hopeless after all.”

Kojiro laughs.

It’s fun and he laughs and laughs and forgets the world whenever he’s skating with Kaoru. With Kaoru, everything feels like the first time and Kojiro thinks, with damnation, he might not be able to get over this feeling.

It continues and it feels like it’s Kaoru and Kojiro against the world—skating through abandoned buildings and construction sites, skating on bridges and skating away from police officers who curse them out for being the way they are.

It continues. Kaoru and Kojiro versus the world—until Adam.

Kojiro doesn’t know how it all went downhill from there.

It turns into Kaoru and Kojiro and Adam against the world and for a while, Kojiro was elated to find another person to share the skating experience with. Adam is charismatic with skills to back up his words and Kojiro admires him—falls for the way he skates, the way his feet feels like it’s flying, the way he jumps one beam over another, his skills obviously better than theirs and it makes Kojiro strive to become better, to stand side by side with him, to push through his limits and he knows he’s not the only one.

Adam, as a skater and as a person, was an enigma. A marvel. A mystery one couldn’t hope to solve. You couldn’t help but be drawn to him—his skating, his words, his skills, his strength. You can’t help but want to stay by his side, to watch him skate effortlessly, to see him achieve new heights.

And yet—

Yet there’s a gut-wrenching feeling in his stomach, one that twists and turns, one that makes Kojiro feel like  _ shit _ whenever he sees the look of admiration in Kaoru’s face.

It’s  _ bullshit _ , because Kojiro knows he has the same look on his face as he looks at Adam. Admiration for his skills. Admiration for the way he effortlessly pulls everything off. Admiration for the way he skates. But there’s something different in the way Kaoru stares at him that makes Kojiro feel like he’s been hit by a ten-wheeler truck.

Kaoru almost fell off his skate, if not for Adam catching him, pulling Kaoru close to him and it makes Kojiro clench his fist because he _knows_ —he knows that look on Kaoru’s face; the small flush on his face, easy to miss if not for the fact that Kojiro knows Kaoru, lips parted in surprise yet he curls his hand around Adam’s shoulder, the interest in his eyes palpable to Kojiro and damn it, of all people, Kojiro can understand.

“Okay?”

“Yeah,” Kaoru replies, his composure ever intact if not for the small flush on his ears. “Just lost my balance for a second. Your hood—”

Understand why Kaoru is interested in Adam.

Because Adam is  _ Adam _ and when he pulls his hood away from his face, the moonlight shining on the pale smiling and charismatic look he has, Kojiro can’t help but be drawn to the enigma that is Adam, can’t help but feel pride in Adam’s words but he can’t also help but look at Kaoru—beautiful, elegant, golden-eyed Kaoru who looks at Adam like he’s the only person in the world who matters, looks at Adam the same way as he did during the first time he started to built those AI’s: golden eyes burning with passion, bright and full of promise, golden eyes focused on one person like his words were benediction and Kaoru was a pious man hanging on to his words.

“It’s fine if it’s you,” Adam says and Kojiro can’t help but feel a small pride unfurling in his gut. “You guys are special.”

The look on Kaoru’s face—adoration mixed with something else, something that Kojiro wishes he could ignore because Kaoru’s attention isn’t focused solely on him anymore or on his technology. There’s someone else now and Kojiro doesn’t know how to feel about that.

*

It takes time for Kojiro to manage his thoughts. It’s always been Kaoru and Kojiro against the world for almost ten years now. He’s had Kaoru’s attention—whenever he wasn’t tinkering with that technology of his anyway—but now someone else has it, someone new, someone charismatic, someone  _ better _ than Kojiro and Kojiro doesn’t know what the ugly feeling in his chest is.

It takes some time getting used to, having Kaoru’s attention on someone else. Someone other than Kojiro. Something other than his technology. Something other than his skating.

It’s an ugly feeling, something Kojiro wishes he could bury deep down and forget about but he can’t. Not with the way Kaoru looks while he skates with Adam—free and burning as brightly as ever. Burning as brightly even when Kojiro wasn’t by his side.

And goddamn it hurt like a  _ bitch. _

“Joe,” Adam snaps his fingers in front of him, making Kojiro startle slightly. “You’ve been spacing out, you okay?”

“Yeah man,” Kojiro replies sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. “Sorry, were you saying something? These wounds hurt like a bitch, I keep getting distracted.”

If asked, he would never divulge that he fell on his ass more times than he could count because he was thinking of Kaoru. No way in hell.

“Your  _ what _ ?”

In reply, Kojiro raises his arms, smiling slightly at Kaoru’s sudden arrival. Bruises and scratches were all over it, scars from old wounds and new ones. He had been trying to land the new move he’s been trying but recently his thoughts were just full of his best friend.

“You’re a fucking dumbass,” Kaoru narrows his eyes at Kojiro. He assesses Kojiro’s injuries like he used to in the past, a flash of relief palpable once he sees that it wasn’t anything serious, merely minor and superficial injuries. “Unsurprisingly.”

Yet he grabs the first aid kit they keep around, brows furrowed as he dabs alcohol on the scratches on Kojiro’s arms.

Hissing, Kojiro flinches from the pain. “Hey be gentle! That fucking hurts. I’m a fragile man, Ka—Cherry.”

“Fragile my ass,” Kaoru snorts, still focused on Kojiro’s wounds, like he’s committing each and every wound, every scar to memory. “Trying to get yourself even more ugly with all these scars?”

“A scar adds to a man’s character!”

“Like you’d need any more.” Kaoru frowns at the number of injuries on Kojiro’s body, some bleeding and others merely scratching the surface. He doesn’t even look up as he says, “Stop wiggling your eyebrows, I meant that you’re already a fucking handful.”

Kojiro laughs.

It’s anticlimactic really. Kaoru isn’t even doing anything romantic and it isn’t the first time Kojiro has seen Kaoru like this—squatting in front of him, expression serious and eyes focused as he dabs alcohol all over Kojiro’s wounds but Kojiro can’t help but _ look _ at him. People say Kaoru is prickly and closed off but Kojiro thinks that the best word to describe Kaoru would be  _ beautiful _ —from the eye-catching pink hair falling down to his shoulders, to the metal glinting in his lips. Golden eyes that reflect the beauty of the sun but attitude as cool and collected as the moon. Kaoru doesn’t shine bright, no, but he  _ shines  _ like the moonlight, a cold beauty that you can’t bear to look away from. Tranquil. Calming. Soothing.

Kojiro thinks he doesn’t ever want to look away, doesn’t ever want to know how it feels without the moon shining in the sky.

Kojiro doesn’t want to go through life without Kaoru.

He likes having Kaoru’s attention on him, likes it when Kaoru’s criticizing and commenting about his wasted movements, likes it when Kaoru skates beside him. He likes the way Kaoru’s hands were so gentle even when his words were like knives. He likes the way Kaoru doesn’t show his weakness but asks when he needs help. He likes—

_ Oh. _

He likes Kaoru.

The realization sits there, on his tongue, on his chest, on his heart and he’s surprised by the fact that he isn’t even surprised. Like it was just there, a fact that he should know his whole life waiting to be acknowledged.

He likes Kaoru—and the feeling of elation and pain crashes through him at the same time, sobering him up.

He likes Kaoru but Kaoru—

Kaoru is in love with Adam.

Kojiro knows because he  _ knows  _ Kaoru. Has seen the way Kaoru looks at Adam, has seen the way his eyes seem transfixed on Adam whenever he skates, has seen the way Kaoru  _ looks  _ whenever they’re skating with Adam.

The funny thing was, Kojiro can’t even blame him. Adam is  _ Adam _ —an enigma, a bright star in the cold night, like a magnet you can’t help but be drawn to even if you don’t want to—and he was Kojiro. Just Kojiro.

“Kojiro?” Kaoru whispers, just loud enough for Kojiro to hear. It sounds like a question that Kojiro knows the answer to but can’t tell Kaoru honestly.

“I’m fine,” He grins and hopes it looks genuine. “Just thinking about how to nail that move.”

“If you weren’t a muscle-for-brains guy,” Kaoru rolls his eyes, closing the first aid kit and standing up. “You might.”

“Just watch, I’m going to make you regret ever saying that.”

Kaoru snorts. “I remember someone saying that before he lost to me spectacularly.”

“That was one time!”

“It’s one time too many.”

Adam laughs on the corner, watching them with amusement. Kaoru turns to look at him and Kojiro doesn’t want to see the bright look on Kaoru’s face, doesn’t want to see how he lights up whenever he faces Adam.

Kojiro wants Kaoru’s attention on him but he  _ knows  _ he’s never going to get it, because he was Kojiro.

Just Kojiro.

*

So he finds a distraction. Suddenly realizing he might be in love with his best friend, who’s in love with their other friend, was something Kojiro doesn’t need. Not when he knows it could potentially ruin the friendship between him and Kaoru. It’s fine this way—even if it isn’t him, as long as he could stay by Kaoru’s side, Kojiro settles for it.

Girls throw him their attention and Kojiro basks in it, distracting himself, wishing that it was Kaoru’s attention on him instead. 

He still skates with Kaoru and Adam, still loves the feeling of living by danger, still fights with Kaoru on a daily basis but he  _ tries  _ to look at girls instead. Kisses them after a good race and his body is still full of adrenaline, cycles through girls like a scumbag because they aren’t as pretty as Kaoru or as muscular or as intimidating. It’s a scumbag move but it helps. It helps Kojiro distract himself momentarily, forgetting about Kaoru and his golden eyes and pink hair and lips that Kojiro wants to taste, wondering if it tastes sweet or metallic because of his piercings.

It’s fine.

This is  _ fine. _

Maybe one day, he’d forget about Kaoru ~~(—though he'd doubt it, Kaoru was too fucking annoying, filling Kojiro’s thoughts and he deep down Kojiro knows he doesn’t want to stop)~~ and move on. Maybe one day he’d look at Kaoru and not feel despair anymore. Maybe one day, he could smile and feel happy that Kaoru found love.

One day.  _ One day. _

He hopes it comes sooner because Kojiro doesn’t think he can watch any longer without breaking, doesn’t think he can look at Kaoru who looks at Adam like he’s everything he wanted and more, doesn’t think he can bear to watch him fall deeper.

Adam tucks Kaoru’s hair behind his ear and Kojiro looks away.

Kaoru laughs at something Adam says and Kojiro feels like the ground beneath him fell apart.

Kojiro closes his eyes and wishes he could get the image out of his head but even as he kisses the girl in front of him, it’s Kaoru that fills his mind.

“Fuck.”

“Joe?” The girl—who was she again? Sarah? Sherry? Samantha?—looks at him with a questioning look, confused at the sudden words that came out of Kojiro’s mouth.

“Sorry babe,” He grins and it feels so  _ forced _ , so empty, and Kojiro wishes he could throw his feelings away. “It’s getting late, let’s get you home.”

Even as Kojiro drives away, away from Kaoru, he doesn’t think he carries his heart with him.

* * *

The first time Kojiro rejects Kaoru’s invitation to skate with Adam and the rest, Kaoru furrows his brows but Kojiro waves it off, saying his body is tired.

The second time, he manages to find an excuse with the lady in his arms.

The third time Kojiro bails on Kaoru’s invitation to skate, Kaoru comes crashing in his house, using the window that Kojiro never locks because it used to be Kaoru’s way in entering his room, which he regrets now.

Kaoru stares at him, brows raised and arms crossed against his chest.  _ Defensive,  _ definitely here for an interrogation.

“Yo,” Kojiro greets, even if he was so close to running out of the house. “Changing occupations to burglary now, Kaoru?”

“Don’t call me that.” Kaoru snaps.

Kojiro visibly flinches. It’s nothing new—Kaoru doesn’t like Kojiro calling him by his name but this time, it hurts Kojiro bone-deep, like knives were penetrating his skin slowly, surely, carving a wound that would never heal.

“Sorry,” Kaoru deflates, absentmindedly staring at Kojiro’s wall. He’s sitting cross-legged on Kojiro’s bed, just like he used to in the past. “Rough week. Can we talk?”

Kojiro scrunches his nose. If Kaoru’s here to ask him why he’s disappearing all of a sudden, Kojiro doesn’t know what he would say. He can’t lie—not to Kaoru who knows him practically all his life.

“It’s about Adam.”

Because  _ of course _ it is.

Kojiro slumps back on his bed, face down and groans. “What about him?”

“He’s acting weird,” Kaoru nibbles his lower lip, a nervous habit he still hasn’t gotten rid of even after years and even after the piercing on his lip. “It’s—He’s obsessed, with the new skaters—rookies and it’s just… weird. Different. He’s different from when he was just with us.”

“Is he?” Kojiro hums, trying to remember the last time he interacted with Adam. It’s been weeks, weeks since he last visited the under construction S, weeks since he last agreed to a night out with them, weeks since Kojiro feels the absence in his heart.

“You would know,” Kaoru’s voice is filled with tension, like he’s on the verge of getting angry. “If you stopped avoiding us like we’re the fucking plague.”

_ Ah. So you noticed?  _ “I’m no—”

“Kojiro,  _ don’t. _ ” It sounds like a plea— _ don’t lie to me, don’t walk away from me, don’t leave _ —and Kojiro hates the way he feels, hates how one word from him—from Kaoru and he comes falling down again.

“Okay,” He says instead, ignoring Kaoru’s plea which they both know he heard. “What’s going on with him?”

Kaoru exhales, composing himself. Kojiro waits and gives him all the time he needs, quietly staying by his side. “He’s obsessed. The new rookies, I don’t know what happened to them but every rookie Adam gets obsessed with doesn’t return and when they do, they’re injured and afraid.”

“Afraid?”

“They stay away from Adam, unlike before.” Kaoru looks at him, worry evident in his features and damn, even in this situation, Kojiro can’t help but think of Adam as one lucky guy. “We need to know what’s going on with him.”

Kojiro frowns. For better or for worse, Adam is still his friend. He can’t imagine the same teenager who skated with them, smiles and joyous laughter would suddenly resort into violence.

“Alright.” Kojiro nods. “I’m with you.”

At this, Kaoru exhales, relieved. “Thank you.”

*

The day they figure out what happens is the day Kaoru, along with Kojiro’s, heart breaks.

Adam is still Kojiro’s friend and the change he sees hurts him. Adam used to love skating, his words along with his actions, they conveyed how much he loved it and yet why—why is he doing this now?

Injuries are common in skating but this—this isn’t it. This is beyond madness.

“What the fuck.” Kojiro mutters, more to himself as he combs his hand through his hair. “What a fucking night.”

“Kojiro,” Kaoru suddenly says, after being quiet the entire night, even as they deposited the injured rookie to the hospital. “We need to have a beef with him.”

“With who?” Kojiro snaps his eyes towards Kaoru. “You saw what he did, Cherry. He’s—As you said, he’s different. What’s stopping him from doing that to us?”

For a second, Kaoru looks surprised. He looks at Kojiro, tilts his head like he’s trying to read through the very depths of Kojiro’s soul. “That’s… You’re right.”

“Do my ears deceive me or did you just agree with me?”

“But we need to know what happened with him, Kojiro. What turned him into this mess.”

Kojiro looks away at the faint hope still visible on those golden eyes.

“Fine.” Kojiro says because as always, he’s weak, weak for Kaoru and falls for his every word.

They don’t get to challenge him.

Adam, to the complete surprise of everyone, suddenly vanishes off to America. S is still under construction but Adam has completely gone off grid and instead there now exists rumors, legends about him.

Kojiro isn’t surprised when he doesn’t see Kaoru at S anymore.

If he could, he would rather take the pain Kaoru feels than let him hope—hope for Adam, hope for him to return back to the way he was, hope for the impossible.

And everyday, it kills Kojiro too. He knows, of course he does, he’s known Kaoru for years now and he knows that Kaoru is still holding on to that little bit of hope, a single thread in the darkness, for Adam to come back. To return to them.

Everyday he feels like it’s about to tip over, the feelings he has for Kaoru and it would come crashing down, flooding everything in its path like a dam breaking. He’s afraid that one day, one day he could lose all of this with a slip of his tongue. He knows it will, as long as he’s here, as long as Kaoru is here.

_ Distance _ . He needs to create distance before he slips up.

So when he receives an email about an apprenticeship in Italy, Kojiro hesitates.

He hesitates on how to tell Kaoru. He can’t remember a time when Kaoru wasn’t with him but this time, he needs to get away. He feels  _ suffocated _ and  _ lost _ and  _ numb _ . He feels like he’s on the edge and just a small nudge and he could break and fall apart. He doesn’t want that to happen. 

Kojiro opens his phone, clicks on the last conversation he had with Kaoru over college courses. They both pretend that S didn’t happen, like a lifetime worth of memories could be buried down so easily and neither of them mentions anything about Adam but Kojiro knows that Kaoru still thinks about him.

Sighing, he sends Kaoru a message. Now or never.

_ how’s the university applications? _

**cherry blossom**

tiring. still waiting for that final good news.

what's up?

_ you’ll get in, trust me. _

_ can we talk? _

**cherry blossom**

yeah gorilla, tell the person with anxiety ‘can we talk’ over the phone without a prompt and see if they hyperventilate.

_ shit sorry, my fault. i didn't mean to. _

_ it’s nothing bad but… _

_ [Forwarded Email] _

**cherry blossom**

an apprenticeship in italy?

heh. someone actually likes your cooking?

_ you do, shitty four-eyes. _

**cherry blossom**

so i guess you’re not going to toudai with me?

_ sorry. _

Kojiro hates it. He doesn’t want to pull away. He wants to stay but staying feels so  _ suffocating _ and Kojiro doesn’t know if he can still breathe around Kaoru.

_ cherry? _

Sighing, he grabs the keys to his motorcycle. He’s going to miss it since he can’t take it to Italy but sacrifices need to be made.

As he roams around the city he grew up in, Kojiro looks at the places and sees a memory of them together. From childhood, playing in the sand boxes and kicking the swings higher to the stairs where they used to practice skateboarding.

He finds Kaoru on their usual spot, the sunset shining behind him as he leans on the railings. It’s a place that’s  _ theirs— _ Kaoru and Kojiro before Adam.

Kaoru doesn’t look surprised at his arrival, merely throwing him a glance. “How long?”

“Five years.”

“Five years,” Kaoru repeats. He closes his eyes and looks over the horizon. Kojiro stops beside him, looking at Kaoru instead of the scene in front of him. He tries to commit Kaoru into his memory—the vibrant pink hair that seems to shine with the sunset, the slope of his nose, the way his golden eyes shine even brighter—Kojiro  _ knows  _ he’s going to miss it. “That’s a long time.”

“It is.” It’s five years. 60 months. 1825 days. 43800 hours where he won’t be able to see Kaoru, won’t be able to look at him, to bicker with him, to hear his voice.

They stare at the sunset in silence, basking in each other’s presence, trying to savor the warmth from each other.

“I don’t know a life without you.”

His words make Kojiro stop and stare, turning to look at Kaoru. He isn’t looking at Kojiro but his hands are tight against the railings, knuckle turning white. Kojiro knows how much he hates vulnerability, how much he hates being seen open and raw and those words are enough to make Kojiro fall again. He doesn’t have to but he tells Kojiro anyway and Kaoru has never said anything he doesn’t mean.

_ He knows _ he means it, he feels the same because as far as Kojiro can remember, Kaoru had been there.

“Me too,” Kojiro admits, a beat later, closing his eyes to soak in the warmth of Kaoru’s shoulders. His voice is soft, almost a whisper, uncharacteristic of how he’s usually brash and loud. “Me too.”

“If you ever grow distant when you’re in Italy, I’ll chop off that thing between your thighs and feed them to you.”

This is the first time Kaoru bought up the past but neither he nor Kojiro talks about it.

“Domestic violence is not the answer to everything.” Kojiro sing-sang, laughing when Kaoru hits him on the shins.

“Keep your mouth open and you might not be able to get to Italy.”

“There’s a way to keep my mouth shut.” Kojiro wiggles his eyebrows. “I’m an obedient man, Kaoru.”

“You’re fucking annoying is what you are.” He replies back without any heat, purely for the sake of irritating Kojiro.

It makes Kojiro laugh and he knows he’s going to miss this.

Closing his eyes, Kojiro sighs.

_ I don’t know a life without you too, Kaoru. _

* * *

Italy is beautiful.

He has two weeks before his apprenticeship starts so he visits the San Miniato al Monte during the first day, content as he watches the view from the top of the stairs, momentarily stunned at the different architectural styles of the chapel. Kojiro is neither religious nor a lover of art but beauty is universal and it takes him a moment to breathe again, stunned at the beauty of the walls.

The Boboli Gardens is breathtaking and Kojiro takes a picture without thinking, sending it to Kaoru on how his hair blended right in. Kaoru sends him an  _ idiot _ back in response and  _ yeah your hair sucks. you look like someone growing algae in their hair. _

Kojiro laughs and god he  _ misses  _ him.

He goes to Piazzale Michelangiolo, watching the red tulips blooming so vibrantly across the field. He thinks of Kaoru and how he would’ve loved it here, maybe even get Kaoru to walk with him even if he hates the scorching sun as his  _ beloved  _ Carla spouts some historical shit about the Brunelleschi's dome or the Ponte Vecchio.

For someone who doesn’t understand art, Kojiro finds himself entertained at the Uffizi Gallery. He sends another picture to Kaoru, this time it’s a painting of a woman in thin clothing carrying a large axe in her hand and gripping a human? horse? half-human horse? on the other with a small text that said  _ if they fuck would the child be ¼ horse _ .

Kaoru sends back a  _ what the fuck, gorilla _ hours later and Kojiro calculates the time difference, raising a brow at the fact that Kaoru should’ve just woken up but he managed to reply to Kojiro’s nonsense text so early in the morning.

Something warm unfurls in Kojiro’s stomach, something he wishes he could ignore.

Weekly texts turn to monthly ones when Kojiro starts to work on his apprenticeship. He’s tired, bone-deep and almost on the verge of falling asleep on his feet but it’s worth it; the satisfaction of learning different recipes from professional chefs, the excitement of learning how to manage the restaurant and see firsthand the skills of those chefs. It keeps him distracted too, too tired to think of anything but sleep and for a while, he forgets about Kaoru.

He finds himself falling in love with Italy, with the art and the food and the hospitality of people. He finds himself growing more, appreciating life more, becoming freer than he did for the past few years.

He works out, feeling the burn and absence of skating with Kaoru, with other people he could share the same experience with. He finds new hobbies, gets a tattoo during Kaoru’s birthday just to  _ feel  _ something besides missing him, finds a girlfriend who he breaks up with months later.

It’s beautiful in Italy and he could fall in love with it but Kojiro knows where his heart is.

What he doesn’t expect is seeing  _ him _ again, after three years, in Paris.

Kojiro thought he was hallucinating (—or missing Kaoru too much though he prefers not to dwell on that) because there was no way Kaoru was in Paris. Kaoru mirrors the surprised expression on Kojiro’s face when they both see each other, the chef who invited him here is talking with a man who Kojiro assumes is someone Kaoru knows, judging by the distance between them and how the man introduces Kaoru to the chef. Seeing Kojiro, the chef beckons him over.

“Kojiro!” Antoine calls him over, grinning widely. “This is the chef I was talking about. He’s the one who made that desert you like.” Kojiro nods politely at the man, who clasps his hand, grinning wide. “Kojiro, this is Professor Matsunada and his student.”

Kojiro slowly looks over at Kaoru and for the first time in three years, he feels his heart beating again.

*

He follows Kaoru to the terrace once they find the time to escape the social activities. As always, Kaoru doesn’t drink alcohol, even champagne preferring to choose water on all occasions.

“Didn’t expect to see you here,” Kojiro says, just as he opens the terrace window and follows Kaoru outside.

“Surprise.” Kaoru deadpans, rolling his eyes at Kojiro and  _ fuck _ , Kojiro missed him. His mean exterior above that softness. His jabs and the way he unhesitatingly leans towards Kojiro, like the past three years of constant on/off communication didn’t exist. “Thought you got an apprenticeship in Italy?”

“Was forced to come here since Chef Guilia was too busy.” Kojiro smiles. “Which proved to be a good thing. I get to see your suffering fake smile.”

“Yes, you should totally come all the way to Paris to see me faking through social activities.”

“Did I mention I love seeing you suffer?” Kojiro winks, drinking down his champagne. “Wanna get out of here?”

Kaoru scrunches his nose in disgust. “That sounds like a hook-up line.”

“Fuck,” Kojiro guffawed. “I meant let’s go out and drink. The glasses here are too mild.”

“You’re going to get alcohol poisoning and I’m going to put ‘ _ He died because he was an idiot’  _ on your memorial.”

“Aww, you’re planning on hosting my memorial, Cherry?”

“Did you get dropped as a child,” He phrases it like a statement instead of a question. “That wasn’t the point.”

Kojiro winks. “I know,  _ Cuore Mio _ .”

Kaoru throws him a confused look. “I don’t speak Italian.”

“Oh  _ I know _ ,” Kojiro smiles. “Tesoro.” He smiles even wider at Kaoru’s begrudging look. “Coming?”

Kaoru shrugs, catching up to walk beside Kojiro and Kojiro laments on how this feels  _ just right. “ _ Your treat.”

“Freeloader.”

“You asked, you pay.”

The bar he brings Kaoru to is famous in the city. It’s not wild or crowded but the drinks are absolutely something to die for. Kojiro manages to convince him to drink one glass of Kir Royale and when he flushes like the color as his hair, Kojiro feels like he’s thrown back to the past, years ago, when it was just Kojiro and Kaoru.

A familiar song plays in the background and Kojiro can’t help but stare at Kaoru as he sings along the music, dedicating the entire [song](https://youtu.be/8Eu1F1oA5pM) to Kaoru.

“ _ Je ferais n’importe quoi _ ,” Kojiro stares at Kaoru, wanting nothing more than to reach out and touch him. “ _ Si tu me le demandais _ .”

Kojiro stops himself from tucking Kaoru’s hair behind his ear, stops himself from wanting to touch, and from leaning towards Kaoru. Stops himself before he falls all over again.

*

Kojiro calculates the hours, sending a timely message to Kaoru before he boards the airplane, a photo of his drunk face on the table, sleeping with the text that said:  _ if you die on the way, i’m using this as your tarpaulin photo. _

_ you do know i can hack your phone and just delete it _ , came the reply.

Kojiro laughs,  _ but you won’t ;) _

*

Kojiro has Sakurayashiki Kaoru alert on his phone and is the first one to send a congratulatory message when his phone beeps and displays a news of Kaoru finally getting recognition and a store of his own.

_ isn't it like 2 am there? sleep, you overgrown child. _

Sleep claims him faster than he thought it would and he doesn’t manage to reply to Kaoru before he blacks out.

In the morning though, he finds another text, just a simple,  _ thanks _ .

Kojiro feels himself smiling all day.

*

The next time they meet is in LA, to both of their surprises. Kojiro doesn’t get to ask what Kaoru was doing in LA, not when Kaoru pulled his skateboard up, a silent invitation for Kojiro.

“And what if I didn’t bring mine?”

“Then that’s your loss,” Kaoru shrugs undisturbed. “Besides there’s no way you bought clothes on that big luggage of yours.”

“Hey!”

Kaoru raises a brow at him, looking at him up and down, narrowing his eyes at Kojiro’s naked chest. “Why bring something you’re not even going to wear.”

“For decoration,” Kojiro replies, grabbing his skateboard out of his suitcase. “Can you imagine going through customs and that one airport guy asks why you’re not bringing any shirt.”

Kaoru pointedly looks at him, a look that conveys somewhere between  _ what the fuck  _ and  _ you’re a fucking idiot _ . Which… rude.

The skating park is full of people but they make do. It’s easy to fall back again on their banters, on the way they challenge each other one jump after another, on the way they try to reach higher than the other. Kojiro finds it easy to fall back and be with Kaoru, as if they were puzzle pieces falling into place after so long of missing each other.

Kojiro marvels on how easy it is to be with Kaoru, even after years of not being by each other’s side.

The sun is scorching high up in the sky but Kojiro feels warmer inside than he ever is outside, watching Kaoru skate through the empty swimming pool and on the steel bars, watching Kaoru’s golden eyes catching his in the crowd, watching as Kaoru makes his way to him, a couple of water bottles in his hand.

“What brings you to LA?”

Kaoru hums, noncommittal. “This and that.”

“Very informative,  _ mio amato _ .” The name slips out of Kojiro’s mouth on instinct, trying to hold back his laughter when Kaoru glances at him with a pointed look, both of them knowing full-well that Kaoru won’t be able to understand. “By the way, I’m coming back.”

“To Japan?”

Kojiro hums in agreement.

“Damn,” Kaoru replies, just for the sake of arguing with Kojiro. “I liked having you across the ocean where I can’t see your face.”

“And yet you’re the one who called me out here.”

“Maybe I was trying to judge how shitty you’ve gotten.”

“And the verdict?”

“Same old,” Kaoru shrugs. “I could still beat you with my eyes closed.”

“Wohooah,” Kojiro raises a brow. “A little confident there, machine fucker.”

“Wanna bet?”

“Oh,” Kojiro grins and it feels like he’s 15 again, skating with Kaoru for the first time. “You’re on. Loser pays for lunch.”

*

Kojiro loses—according to Carla anyway, about 0.2 seconds slower than Kaoru but Kojiro’s pretty sure he won that one and Kaoru’s just being a sore loser, as usual.

The diner they go to is close to the skating park. It’s mostly devoid of people, which Kojiro knows Kaoru prefers but they should’ve thought much about the reason  _ why  _ it was devoid.

The food is  _ shit _ , and Kojiro thinks he’s phrasing it quite nicely. It’s coarse on the tongue and it doesn’t taste like food at all. Kojiro would be pissed, if not for the affronted look on Kaoru’s face which makes him snort, feeling warm all over.

“Too rough for your delicate taste?”

“Who are you calling delicate, muscle-for-brains gorilla?” Kaoru kicks him on the foot. To which he returns just as hard.

It’s dangerous—how easy this feels like, arguing with Kaoru, being around him, falling into his space again. Kojiro fought for three years to stay in his own orbit, to not fall into the gravity that is Sakurayashiki Kaoru but all it takes is two meetings and a kick for him to fall back again.

* * *

Okinawa hasn’t changed at all since he left. There are new buildings and unfamiliar faces but the air and atmosphere surrounding his hometown stays the same. The places where he used to run around in his childhood and in his rebellious teenager years stayed the same.

If Kojiro manages to find a building that’s close to Sakurayashiki Calligraphy, it’s no one’s business but his own.

S is now a full-blown race track for skaters, complete with high maintenance and tight security. It’s completely different from five years ago, still under construction with nobody but them around. Now there’s hundreds of people gathering, all kinds of characters and people.

“Joe?! Shit man, is that you?!” Almost all of the people inside are people Kojiro doesn’t know so it surprises him when someone does recognize him. “Fuck you’re big.”

Kojiro laughs. It’s one of his acquaintances in high school, bonded through nothing but skating. “Thanks man. I know you haven’t seen  _ it _ but I appreciate it when another guy says it.”

“Fuck,” The man laughs, bumping his fist against Kojiro’s. “I didn’t mean it  _ that _ way, you fucker. Since when did you come back?”

“Just a week ago.” Kojiro says before he gestures to the entire place, raising a brow. “There’s security guards now?”

“Yep. Adam made it tight and shit.” The guy shrugs and Kojiro’s stomach falls at the sound of Adam’s name. “He hasn’t shown his face since the opening two years ago. You going to skate tonight?”

“Maybe,” Kojiro shrugs. He tries to calculate and  _ yep _ , just as he thought. Two years ago, he saw Kaoru in LA. Was Adam the reason why Kaoru suddenly felt like flying across the globe? “Gonna see if someone’s up for a beef. If not, I’ll go.”

“Cherry might come tonight.” The guy says, wiggling his brows. “It’s been awhile since I last saw you guys skate.”

“Does he come often?”

“Once or twice a month, give or take. As far as I know, his business is booming so it’s hard for him.”

Kojiro shakes his head, laughing. “Once a month and you think he might come here today?”

“Well, it’s a miracle you’re here.” The guy grins. “Let’s hope for another one.”

Speak of the devil and he shall appear. The crowd bustles and livens up, shouting for the familiar name that Kojiro knows deeply well, like a remnant of his soul.

Kaoru—or Cherry Blossom, as he’s known here in S, appears with the infamous AI of his. His hair is tied up in a high ponytail, swinging slightly at his every step. Kojiro manages to stop himself from laughing, hiding it in his palm when he sees whatever it was that Kaoru was wearing. Unlike Joe who was close to naked, Kaoru was almost covered from head to toe. A white sleeveless yukata with purple cuffs, baggy pleated pants and a yellow belt on his waist. He wears numerous guards—on his wrist and his calves. Kojiro doesn’t even want to see what shoes he’s wearing.

“What garbage dump did you steal those clothes from?” Kojiro voices out, loud and clear amidst the hundreds of hushed whispers around.

They turn to him, eyes full of judgment and shaking their heads at his arrogant demeanor. Kojiro leans back, smiling when Kaoru’s golden eyes stare right back at him, a hint of surprise masked by his cold demeanor.

“Better than someone who doesn’t know what clothes are at all.”

The whispers are getting louder and they’re attracting more and more attention but Kojiro pays it no mind. How could he when Kaoru’s attention is solely focused on him? How could Kojiro bear to think of anything else?

“A beef?” Kojiro tilts his head and smiles even wider. “For old times sake?”

Kojiro ignores the world around him, fully focused on Kaoru. Kaoru, who rolls his eyes, crosses his arms on his chest as he twirls his board on his arm. He looks at Kojiro and even with the mask, Kojiro  _ knows  _ he’s grinning.

“You’re on.”

“You’re going down,  _ fiore di ciliegio. _ ”

“I see that nasty habit of yours still hasn’t gone away.”

Kojiro laughs, walking to the starting line. “Learn Italian and then we'll talk, shitty four-eyes.”

Kaoru mumbles something under his breath that Kojiro doesn’t quite catch. The noise around them seems louder now, all of them excited to see  _ the  _ Cherry Blossom race against an arrogant newcomer. Kojiro smirks, loving the attention on him which is nothing compared to Kaoru’s golden eyes, defiant and shining with something akin to mirth as he stares at Kojiro.

“Loser has to do something the winner wants?”

“Peeling those layers off you would be delightful.” Kojiro winks, to which Kaoru rolls his eyes to. Flirting is easy, seemingly second nature to Kojiro, with how words easily fall out of his lips before he can even think it through.

When the lights turn green, both of them rush off.

It feels  _ satisfying— _ the wind against his skin, the adrenaline pumping through his body, Kaoru skating beside him. It wouldn’t be a lie if Kojiro said he hasn’t felt this satisfied and content since LA, where he skated with Kaoru again, falling into Kaoru’s orbit once more.

It’s Kojiro’s first time skating to a completed S but Kojiro is a skater after all. He’s been there at the beginning of S, when their plans and dreams relied on blueprints and on-going construction. He manages to win just by a millisecond. The onlookers are surprised—while some, who recognizes him, congratulate his win, telling him to catch up later.

Kaoru looks at him, golden eyes boring through the darkest abyss of Kojiro’s soul. “Welcome back, meathead.”

Kojiro smiles. “I’m back, four-eyes.”

*

The opening for Kojiro’s restaurant is a huge success and he has ladies all over town promising to visit again. He’s tired, like never been before but he feels immensely happy. He knew it was going to be hard—from the managing to the setting up to cooking—but the work he did paid off and there are hundreds of positive reviews for his restaurant.

Kojiro’s wiping down wine glasses when the bell rings, signalling that someone has come. Kojiro turns, “Sorry, we’re already—”

Sakurayashiki Kaoru stands in front of him, in a blue yukata and a wine in his hand. His cheeks are red and his breathing is labored, like he had been running. “Heard it was a huge success. Looks like you’re good for something after all.”

“Was something chasing you all the way here?” Kojiro asks, as Kaoru sits near the counter, placing his wine in front of Kojiro. Kojiro glances at it before he whistles appreciatively. “1992 Domaine Leflaive Batard Montrachet, damn, what’s the occasion?”

“It’s payment. I’m hungry.”

“I don’t think any of my food is worth more than 1,300 dollars.” Kojiro says before Kaoru’s words actually register in his mind. He narrows his eyes, brows ticking in annoyance. “You haven’t eaten?”

“Busy with work,” Kaoru scrunches his nose. “Give me a glass while you’re at it.”

“You’re worse than a child,” Kojiro grumbles yet he looks over his pantry anyway.

“I want Yakisoba.”

Kojiro glares over his shoulder. “This is an Italian restaurant!”

Thirty minutes later, Kojiro places a bowl of yakisoba in front of him. He ignores the triumphant smile on Kaoru’s face, opting to drink from the wine Kaoru brought instead.

“What’s so important about work that you forgot to eat?”

Kaoru rolls his eyes. “I was in a hurry. Didn’t have time to eat.”

“Huh?” Kojiro tilts his head. “Why?”

“I finished late and Kagoshima is one hour away from here even if you take the fastest flight.”

“And?”

Kaoru looks at him, deadpan. “And you need to use your brain more instead of just flexing those muscles.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Sometimes I wonder if your brain is on your stomach.”

“Those are abs.”

“Now you’re just proving how much of a muscle-headed idiot you are.”

“No matter how important your work is, you can’t go on your day without eating,” Kojiro points out. “You called me an overgrown child, look at you now.”

Kaoru stares at him. It’s the stare that Kojiro can’t read, even after years of knowing Kaoru. He’s seen it on Kaoru’s face a couple of times and yet he never manages to figure out what the stare is for. Golden eyes stare at Kojiro like burning gold, trying to attach itself to Kojiro’s very being until he can no longer remember anything _ but  _ golden eyes.

“Dumbass.” Kaoru says, minutes later as he shakes his head.

“You eat my food—”

“I paid it with the wine—”

“In my house—”

“It’s a fucking restaurant—”

“And dare to call me a dumbass?”

“Would you like another demonstration, you dramatic fuck?”

Kojiro rolls his eyes. He wouldn’t admit it, even at gunpoint that he  _ missed  _ this—just talking to Kaoru and being in Kaoru’s space as much as Kaoru is in his. Three years feel like it has gone by in a flash and Kojiro’s back again, in Kaoru’s space like he should be.

“Right. You never told me what you wanted.”

Kojiro raises a brow.

“The stakes,” Kaoru elaborates. “You didn’t tell me what you’re going to make me do. I veto anything that’s embarrassing which I know would be hard for you but try.”

“Shut up,” Kojiro laughs. “Mm. Maid costumes are out of the question then.” He teases with a grin on his face, only growing wilder at Kaoru’s unimpressed stare. “It’s simple really. Don’t move and don’t complain.”

“About what?”

Kojiro grins. “I wanna braid your hair.”

“Go buy a doll if you want to braid hair.” Kaoru narrows his eyes. “I’m not going to risk your big dumb hands on my hair.”

“ _Big_ _dumb hands_ , are you sure you graduated from university?” Kojiro sing-sang, grinning at the numerous microexpressions that flit through Kaoru’s face. “Loser has to do anything the winner wants, remember?”

“If it was you, you won’t sit either.”

“But well, it’s  _ you _ who lost, didn’t you?”

Kaoru glares at him. “If it turns out bad, I’ll cut half of your hair and dye the rest yellow.”

A light chuckle bubbles out of Kojiro’s chest and he ignores how fond he sounds like. “Sit still,  _ anima mia. _ ”

To Kojiro’s surprise, Kaoru does. Well, he still has that frown on his face but he doesn’t move nor does he complain when Kojiro starts combing his hair with his fingers. He combs Kaoru’s hair gently, untangling the locks with a care that’s only visible when he’s in the kitchen. He grabs a small portion of Kaoru’s hair, entangling it on the other side, slowly and surely, ever so gently braiding Kaoru’s long hair. He crisscrosses Kaoru’s hair, finding it comforting even in the silence that looms over them.

“You seem proficient at this. Who’s hair did you destroy earlier on when practicing?”

“I love the confidence you have in me,” Kojiro replies sarcastically, yet his hands still cards through Kaoru’s hair gently. “You’re my experimental doll.”

“Fuck off.”

“No can do, _amore_.”

It’s easy. He’s so  _ fucking  _ easy. Kojiro falls back into his habits and it’s easy with Kaoru. It’s so fucking easy that it makes it painful. He’s known Kaoru more than half of his life, has been there for Kaoru’s ups and downs but there’s a line he cannot cross, a line that separates them both and fuck Kojiro wants nothing more than to go beyond that line but he  _ can’t.  _

Not when the price of it is losing Kaoru permanently.

“Stop thinking. You’re gonna hurt yourself.”

Kojiro closes his eyes. He  _ can’t. _ He can’t bear to lose Kaoru. Five years ago, he  _ tried  _ but it all resulted to Kojiro running back to Kaoru. He  _ tried _ but when he saw Kaoru again, it felt like the world tilted back to its axis, returning the world back to its original place.

Kojiro can’t lose Kaoru. He doesn’t know if he could come out unscratched if he does.

*

Kaoru visits Kojiro’s restaurant almost weekly, bringing his clients to Kojiro. They pretend not to know each other, to Kojiro’s amusement but it’s  _ fun _ , trying to rile up Kaoru when he can’t do anything but plaster his business smile and Kojiro tries his hardest to irritate him and watch him break.

It feels like old times. Back when they were young and arguing was second nature. Back when Kojiro would complain but he would cook for Kaoru nonetheless. Back when Kaoru would say back scathing words about his cooking but he finishes the entire plate.

It feels like the ground is back on his feet and Kojiro is no longer floating away, not knowing where to go and where to stay.

Of course, as usual, it only takes one Adam to change that.

* * *

As fate would have it, Kaoru is the one who gets to skate against Adam.

“Cherry!”

Kojiro rushes to the starting line, numerous scenes flashing before his very eyes—childhood memories with Kaoru, learning how to skate and falling off his ass numerous times with Kaoru laughing loudly in the background, meeting Adam, seeing the light in Kaoru’s eyes shine so brightly when he looks at Adam, the blood and fractured bones of the last skater that went against Adam.

Kojiro opens his mouth, hesitates and closes it again, swallowing the words back as he stares at the ground.

Kojiro  _ wishes _ he could take Kaoru’s place, not because he wanted to skate against Adam but because he doesn’t want Kaoru to get hurt.

Adam is—was his friend. He had never gotten them hurt, never tried to race against them with those insane death matches but Kojiro doesn’t think he can ever stop seeing that skater fall and not imagine if one day it would be him or Kaoru.

“Loser gorillas should stand down.”

Kojiro glares. He’s been worrying about Kaoru—not that he’d ever admit it to his face—and all he gets is that?! “You—”

“If you’re talking about Adam, I’ll defeat him right now, so you can watch from here.”

Even if he hides it under his cold demeanor, Kojiro  _ knows _ that Kaoru still trusts Adam to an extent. Between them, Kaoru was always the optimist paired up with his deep-rooted feelings for Adam, Kojiro isn’t surprised that Kaoru’s still holding on to that hope, a buried hope that Adam would come back to them, to him.

Kojiro forces himself to grin and hopes that Kaoru is right. For Kaoru’s sake. “If you lose, I’ll laugh at you, wimpy four-eyes.”

“Don’t get frustrated and start working out, muscle-brain gorilla.”

“So,” Adam interrupts, before Kojiro can answer back. Kojiro  _ looks  _ at him, hoping to see a remnant, just a tiny piece of the Adam they knew from back then. For Kaoru. “Does your skit go on for a while longer?”

“Be careful,” Kojiro warns because it’s all he can do. Remind Kaoru that  _ he  _ isn’t the same Adam they used to know that he could potentially do something to get Kaoru in danger. “He’s not the same Adam he used to be.”

“You don’t need to tell me that.”

Kojiro glances at him, a frown on his face.  _ Do you really know Kaoru? _

*

Kojiro knows the exact moment Kaoru’s hope breaks and Kojiro’s heart breaks with him. Adam is ruthless and maybe deep inside Kojiro, he still  _ hoped  _ that Adam won’t hurt them, hoped that no matter how estranged they were Adam wouldn’t  _ dare _ .

Miya flinches at the sound of Adam’s skateboard decking Kaoru’s face. Kojiro can’t seem to look away, fists clenched at his side, his body taut as Kaoru’s body falls to the ground. The sound of the skateboard on Kaoru replays bit by bit on Kojiro’s mind and he feels frozen, standing on ice, unable to listen to anything, unable to feel anything, unable to  _ do  _ anything but watch as Kaoru fell.

This isn’t the first time Adam had hurt Kaoru but Kojiro swears that  _ this _ will be the last time.

Kojiro doesn’t know how he manages to move, running on autopilot, unable to get the memory of Kaoru getting decked by a skateboard out of his mind. He feels tense, legs bouncing up and down as he waits for the verdict about Kaoru’s body. He feels momentarily stunned at the slight prick of pain on his palms and he doesn’t even notice how hard he was clenching his fists and how his small nails were digging to his skin, creating crescent shaped wounds.

“Is he going to be okay?” Miya asks, voice low and trembling. No matter how fearless he may seem, Miya was still in middle school. Not even Kojiro could stop himself from shaking when he saw how insane Adam was earlier.

“He’s going to be fine,” Kojiro replies, voice empty of any emotion. He wants Kaoru to be fine, hopes for it because Kojiro doesn’t know what he’ll do if Kaoru isn’t. “It’s late. Shadow, bring Miya home.”

“But—”

Kojiro tousles Miya’s hair gently. “It’s okay kid. He’s going to be fine. Visiting hours are almost over so we can’t do anything else.”

Miya nods, hesitantly. Kojiro looks at Shadow, hoping to get the message across. When Shadow brings Miya away, Kojiro almost punches the wall.

He wished it was him instead. He wished Adam had hit him instead of Kaoru. At least Kojiro would still be standing afterwards. At least Kaoru wouldn’t be in pain.

_ Fuck. _

Kaoru still doesn’t wake up and there’s bandages all over his body, on his head, on his chest, a sling on his arm. Kojiro could do  _ nothing _ but stare at him, wishing it was him instead.

When the nurses tell him visiting hours is over, Kaoru still lays still on the bed.

“Carla.” Kojiro suddenly says. He doesn’t know if Carla still works or if he would listen to Kojiro.

“Yes, Joe?”

“Play Kaoru’s usual lullaby.”

Kojiro doesn’t want to cross the boundaries because he has accepted long ago that he could never be with Kaoru. He was  _ fine _ , happy to see Kaoru happy but to hell with that. Kojiro would do anything if it meant Kaoru would forget about Adam. Even if it meant he would let Kaoru use him, use him until he forgets about Adam and discards Kojiro.

Kojiro would be willing to do it.

Staring at Kaoru’s injured and sleeping face, Kojiro steps forward, crossing the line.

Kojiro tucks in Kaoru’s loose hair behind his ear as the familiar tune plays in the background.

_ [“Je ferais n’importe quoi, si tu me le demandais…”](https://youtu.be/8Eu1F1oA5pM) _

*

Kojiro knows he won’t be able to sleep, not when the scene of Kaoru getting hit by Adam plays on his mind over and over again. He goes to his restaurant instead, trying to get his mind off of the scene by cleaning the glasses and plates that’s already been cleaned but hey, anything to get his mind off of things.

Kojiro contemplates on closing the restaurant tomorrow to visit Kaoru. He knows that Kaoru, being Kaoru would probably criticize him for doing so, downplaying his injuries but Kojiro can’t sit still knowing that Kaoru is in the hospital.

They’ve been through a lot of injuries but this time it’s different. This time, it’s not only a physical one.

The restaurant bell rings, signifying a customer. Kojiro turns, freezing at the sight of Kaoru. “Are you an idiot?!” Kaoru’s in a wheelchair—Kojiro doesn’t even want to know how he got a customized wheelchair or how he managed to get it to the hospital at short notice—bandages all over his body and a sling around his arm. He looks pale, paler than usual with the dark black wheelchair around him. “Sneaking out of the hospital like that…”

Just like what Kojiro thought, Kaoru downplays his injuries. “No problem, it’s just a scratch.”

Kojiro crosses his arms on his chest as Kaoru maneuvers the wheelchair forward. “You’re looking like a mummy!”

“An honorable wound!”

_ Is it _

“You haven’t gone against Adam after all.”

_ I wish I did. Better me than you. _

“I would’ve won.”

“Shut up,” Kojiro can hear the tiredness in Kaoru’s voice. “You lost against a rookie.”

“That’s no rookie,” Kojiro says, remembering the way Langa skated, not even afraid to fall off a cliff. “He may be a monster worse than Adam.”

“You’re overestimating him,” Kaoru says, grabbing the wine in front of him with his uninjured hand, pouring it slightly. “Adam is more…”

_ More what? _

“It’s empty.” He complains to Kojiro, once the wine doesn’t flow like he expected it to.

Kojiro’s brows tick up in annoyance, leaning forward on the counter. “You bring the next one!”

“I’m injured.”

Kojiro rolls his eyes.  _ You’re only injured when it benefits you asshole,  _ yet he opens his wine cabinet to grab another anyway. It’s an indisputable statement that Kojiro was always weak for Kaoru. “Is white okay? A Lafite—”

Kaoru is sleeping soundly on Kojiro’s counter and Kojiro knows he’s going to blame Kojiro for the inevitable pain he’s going to get. Kojiro places the wine on the counter, sighing loudly at how comfortable Kaoru was in his presence.

Kojiro gently places his hand on Kaoru’s cheek, thumbing small circles on his skin, softly pushing away the hair that falls on his face. “How long are you going to hurt yourself like this, Kaoru?”

Kojiro pours wine for himself, tracing and twirling Kaoru’s hair. Softly, like he was afraid Kaoru was going to hear it, he whispers, a fleeting thought to the wind. “Why can’t it be me?”

Kojiro clinks his glass on Kaoru’s empty one, closing his eyes as the tension from earlier on seeps out of his shoulders. He’s been trying not to let his anger out, trying not to imagine what it would’ve been if Kaoru didn’t open his eyes, trying his hardest to calm down and all it took was Kaoru, breathing,  _ alive _ , in the same room as him, sleeping so comfortably.

Kojiro drowns the wine in one go before he stands up. He can’t have Kaoru sleeping on the counter and he still has some things to clean up. Just as he moves away, Kojiro stops, eyes wide in surprise when he turns to see Kaoru staring back at him, his hand clutching his sides.

Kaoru narrows his eyes. “What do you mean by that? Why can’t you be what?”

_ Fuck.  _ Fuck. Fuck.  _ Fuck. _

Kojiro feels his mind reeling, trying to find excuses for his words. He told himself that he’s going to make Kaoru forget about Adam but  _ fuck _ , he still doesn’t have a plan on how to do that and slipping up now was something he didn’t expect to happen. If Kojiro were to tell him about it now, Kaoru would dismiss it, tell him how idiotic it is, to throw himself away for Kaoru but what he doesn't know was that Kojiro was willing to do anything if he asked, willing to do anything even if he doesn’t ask.

“Kojiro,” His voice is deep, golden eyes narrowed at Kojiro and even when he was sitting down, Kojiro feels the intimidating presence in the room. “What do you mean?”

“Uh,” Kojiro mumbles. Wow, he is so nailing this whole fucking thing.

“So, what is it then?” Kaoru drops his hand from where it clutches Kojiro’s clothes, crossing his arms across his chest.

“I—” Kojiro takes a deep breath and plunges into the abyss. “Can’t you love me instead? Use me. I don’t care if you do. _Shit._ Just stop hurting yourself like this.”

Kaoru’s stare goes colder. “What?”

“I know you love him Kaoru but he’s—he’s not the same Adam that we used to know and it’s driving me crazy how you get yourself hurt like this over and over for him.”

“Stop,” Kaoru’s voice trembles. “Stop fucking around, Kojiro.”

“I’m not, I swear to God, I’m not.” Kojiro squats, gently holding Kaoru’s uninjured hand, facing him straight on. “Sakurayashiki Kaoru, I’m in love with you. I have been for the longest time and I don’t care if you still love him but give me a chance, give me a chance to make you forget—”

“Fuck you, Kojiro!” Kaoru seeths yet he doesn’t pull his hand away. “Since when have I been in love with Adam?!”

“ _ Don’t, _ ” Kojiro snaps. “Don’t lie to me, Kaoru. I was there. I saw. I saw how you looked at him. Admiration. Longing. You were in love with him.”

“I was infatuated with him. Back then, Adam was shining and you couldn’t help but be drawn to him.” Kojiro feels his heart break. He  _ knew  _ but hearing it from Kaoru is another knife carved into his heart. “That was when I was seventeen, Kojiro.”

“I know.” Kojiro nods because he does and he understands. “It’s not going to be easy forgetting him but—”

“You’re a fucking dumbass.”

“I’m pouring my heart over here and you’re just calling me a dumbass?”

“That’s because you are.” Kaoru snaps, glaring at him. “Listen to me. I was infatuated with him when I was seventeen. I admired him. His skills. Him as a person. I won’t lie to you about that but that was when I was fucking seventeen, Kojiro!”

“What? Then why—”

“Because he’s my friend and I hoped. I hoped he would love skating again and not just that shitshow he does.”

“Oh.”

“Then you—”

“I’m in love with the guy who insisted that I was in love with my former friend who got me into the hospital.” Kaoru glares at him. “He’s a fucking dumbass, isn’t he?”

_ Oh. _

“He is,” Kojiro hears his own voice trembling, feels Kaoru tighten his grip on Kojiro’s slipping hands just because he could not believe  _ this  _ was happening. Warmth blooms in his chest, unfurling down his gut and the feeling makes him feel like he’s floating again but this time he has a beacon to come back home to instead of floating around. “He is a fucking idiot,  _ tesoro. _ ”

_ Kaoru was in love with him. _

Shit.

_ Kaoru was fucking in love with him. _

“And that!” Kaoru repeatedly pokes Kojiro’s chest yet it doesn’t stop the elation Kojiro is feeling and laughter bubbles out of his chest, unable to contain the smile that breaks out. “Do you think I would just allow anyone to call me pet names without consequences?”

Kojiro raises a brow. “You knew?”

“Of course I knew! Do you think I was dumb or Google didn’t exist?”

Instead of getting embarrassed at getting caught, Kojiro laughs. He intertwines his hand with Kaoru’s softly kissing him on the forehead before leaning their forehead against each other. “ _ Luce della mia vita _ .”

“Did you ever think how I found you in LA? Or thought I would go to Paris to accompany my professor? Dumbass. Do you think I would’ve gone if I didn’t know you were there?”

Kojiro feels the world sits right in his palms, the treasure which was Sakurayashiki Kaoru and he was an idiot for not knowing it all along.

“Tesoro _,”_ Kojiro kisses their intertwined hands. _“Amore mio,_ ” He cradles Kaoru’s cheeks with his other hand, smiling softly at the way Kaoru leans to it. “ _Cuore mio,”_ He grins when a faint blush arises on Kaoru’s cheeks. _“Mio amato,_ ” He couldn’t help but give a fleeting, barely touching kiss to Kaoru’s cheeks. _“Bellissimo._ ” 

The flush on Kaoru’s face is absolutely worth it. Kojiro can’t stop himself from grinning even when Kaoru glares at him, golden eyes snapping in fury.

What he doesn’t expect is for Kaoru to shake their intertwined hands off, placing it on Kojiro’s nape before he pulls. Pulls Kojiro closer, closer,  _ closer _ until the distance between their lips lessen and Kojiro feels Kaoru’s lips against his.

_ (It’s everything he wanted and more.) _

Kaoru moves his lips against his and Kojiro feels like every thought just flew out of the window. He feels Kaoru smile against his lips, parting slightly but still close enough that Kojiro  _ feels  _ rather than hears Kaoru’s words. “I thought you were the womanizer between us? You forgot how to kiss now?”

Kojiro smiles before he makes Kaoru regret his words. He kisses him like tomorrow’s never gonna come, like the universe would end if he doesn’t, like nothing else ever matters but Kaoru and his lips and his hands and just  _ Kaoru _ .

Kojiro wonders why he waited so long to have this.

When Kaoru hisses in pain, Kojiro remembers that he was still supposed to be in the hospital. He breaks away, kissing Kaoru’s forehead one last time before he carries him upstairs, to where a spare bedroom was at.

“Kojiro…”

“Tomorrow,” Kojiro says, kissing him again on the forehead as he lays him down on the bed. “For now, sleep.”

“Mm.” Kaoru closes his eyes, tapping the space beside him. “Sleep.”

Kojiro smiles and for him, this was everything.

  
  


(When he wakes up in the morning and the first thing he sees is Kaoru’s golden eyes staring back at him, fondness visible in his eyes and it makes him look softer against the morning light, Kojiro can’t be blamed if the first words out of his mouth is, “Will you let me make miso soup for you every morning?”

Kaoru laughs. “That’s not how it—” Before Kojiro’s words register and his eyes widens in surprise. Kojiro laughs but he doesn’t take back his words not when he knows this, with Kaoru, was something he wanted forever.

“Dumbass.” Kaoru replies, burying his head on Kojiro’s neck but Kojiro could feel the smile on his skin. “You're an Italian chef.”)

**Author's Note:**

> • this was supposed to be a 2k fic but then idk what the fuck happened  
> • i have a thing for joe calling kaoru italian pet names and it shows  
> • “Je ferais n’importe quoi, si tu me le demandais” — i will do anything, if you ask me to from Hymne à l'amour by Édith Piaf  
> • fuck finally managed to flush matchablossom out of my system let's hope that ep 10 matchablossom wont ruin me again  
> • if you've read my fics before you'd know i cant write anything more than two characters so even if i wanted to write the gang it is physically and emotionally impossible for me KSHSKSJSKSKKS  
> • i just realized after writing this that i really do not know how to write dialogues like what the f u c k  
> • tesoro - treasure  
> amore mio - my love  
> cuore mio - my heart  
> mio amato - my beloved  
> bellisimo - gorgeous  
> Luce della mia vita - light of my life  
> • the phrase is actually “will you make my miso soup every morning?” which is an outdated version on how to say i love you but u know since kojiro is the chef,,,
> 
> talk to me about these motherfuckers on [twitter](https://www.twitter.com/Ianweiran)


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